Tree
by trollnexus
Summary: The beech tree on the edge of the Black Lake has things to say. This is a story about those things.


**Title**: Tree

**Disclaimer**: I'm just an incredibly broke university student who shall remain broke—at least, as far as this fic is concerned.

**Pairings**: None, but there's a surprise at the end. Well, maybe it's a surprise. Depends on how well I build suspense, really.

**Rating**: T for sarcasm

**Warnings: **It's a story about a freaking tree. Granted, it's a sentient tree that knows more than you'd expect it to know, but it's still a tree. If that's too much for you to handle, I have nothing to say to you that'll help.

**Summary**: The beech tree on the edge of the Black Lake has things to say. This is a story about those things.

**Word Count**: 2,015

**Author's Note**: This was written for the final round of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, Season 2.

Well, we're finally here. I want to thank my fellow Falmouth Falcons teammates for sticking with me this long. You folks are wonderful writers, and it's been an honour to know you. For those of you who have already finished your entries, thank you so much for your hard work. For those of you who are still working on it, I wish you luck!

As for me, I'm ready to write this fic and then finally move on. This competition has been a wonderful experience, but my muse just isn't as energetic as it used to be; she's really tired and wants a long nap. Once I post this, I'm going to take a break from fanfiction, and then I'll get back to Drarry.

All right. Here goes.

.x.x.

_Tree_

Have you ever positioned yourself at the edge of the lake and just felt the breeze coming at you over the water?

It's quite lovely, isn't it?

Many students have sat at my feet, doing just that.

Oh, most of them do other things at the same time, of course. Young humans rarely focus on the gifts of nature—_too boring_, they think. So while having the breeze caress their hair, they also scribble meaningless symbols onto parchment and chatter on to each other about who's snogging whom, the annoyance of having homework, and the like. They laugh, fight, and cry all over the soil in between us, and then at the end of the day they all leave, leaving me alone.

Alone.

I need a moment.

.x.x.

I've been here for as long as I can remember. I don't know how old I am.

I suppose if you were to cut me open, you'd find dozens of rings that you could use to calculate my age, but please don't. I don't want to know my age so badly that I'm willing to die for the knowledge.

And if you're willing to kill me for the knowledge of something that benefits you in no way whatsoever, you can just leave right now. I don't speak to murderers.

And for that matter, please do not carve anything into my flesh. I couldn't care less about your amorous feelings for Steve or Ella, and I have no desire to wear your feeble declaration of love as a tattoo. I suppose humans think it is cute to scar other living beings for life, but let me assure you that it is the furthest thing from cute.

All right. So that's settled, and you understand. I am glad, really. It's better that you understand, or else my attempts at communication are wasted.

Waste is such a disgusting thing.

.x.x.

I like my leaves. They are pretty _and_ functional, unlike that material humans call hair. What is the purpose of hair, anyway? Does it receive nutrients for you, too? It rather seems like they drain nutrients, really, but I suppose it is not up to me to judge.

Oh, don't worry. If one of my leaves falls into your hair, nothing terrible will happen. I'll simply grow a new one, just like you'd grow new hair to replace the strands that fall out. In fact, you should be honoured to wear my beautiful leaves, even for a moment. I don't give these leaves to just anyone, you know.

All right. So that was a lie. My manner of leaf-gifting is in fact arbitrary, dictated by the whims of the wind, but I do not see why that matters so much to you. Stop frowning. Didn't your mother tell you that frowns leave lines in your face?

Well, since you won't stop frowning, I'm just going to keep talking.

Back to the subject of hair, I remember a young man with the most ridiculous hair. It was jet black and horrendously messy, like a microcosm of the universe's chaos, all stuck on top of a human head. Ridiculous, really. I never liked him; you'd never find one of _my _leaves adorning that hideous mop.

You ever meet someone and just _know_ you won't like them? Perhaps you've stumbled upon them on a bad day or there's something in the way they smile that makes you feel uneasy. Well, for me it was his hair. Then I looked further down and found the rest of the face just as awful.

It was originally irrational, of course, like most feelings. When you don't know someone very well, all you have are your instincts and your assumptions, and sometimes they don't happen to match reality.

I was proven right, though. It took a few years, but I was proven right.

You should have seen it. He was right in front of me, the sun in his face, laughing cruelly as he hung another boy upside-down and revealed his inner clothing to a gathering crowd.

Now, I don't fancy that I understand human customs, but I get the sense that one's inner clothing is not meant to be seen by other humans. _He_ didn't seem to care, though. It was all great fun for him, having someone else under his power, having the support of a crowd of his peers.

I don't like him.

I say _don't_, because the image is still alive, no matter what's happened to the real person.

I wonder if he grew up.

.x.x.

You know what I said about irrational feelings? Assumptions? Well, his hair made me really apprehensive. When I saw it again, years later, I thought, "Oh, not this again."

Most of the time, I hate my immobility. I can sway in the wind, but that is about the extent of what I can do. I'm not like that gorgeous Whomping Willow, the one who never gives me the time of day. I quite envy Willow, but that is a different story.

The encounter with this second messy-haired boy, though, was one instance where I was glad I couldn't move. I would have hurt him on sight, or at least have said something scathing, just because he looked so much like the previous boy.

Once those initial feelings abated, though, I could see that he wasn't the same.

I can't pinpoint why; he looked exactly the same, down to the red-and-gold thing around his neck, but his face was kinder. Exasperated at moments, sure, and a little sarcastic, but it was definitely kinder. Perhaps it was the differently-hued eyes, but I think it was more than that.

Ah, but I'm just a tree, trying to philosophise on human nature. Maybe my comments don't hold any weight at all.

You look troubled. I can't imagine why.

.x.x.

Hullo there. So you've finally decided to take off your hat. I will admit that it _is_ warmer today. I've missed my leaves; I'm glad that they'll be coming back soon.

I'm sorry, you know. For all the comments on messy black hair. I can see now why you were upset.

I don't have anything against you. Didn't I already tell you that there's more to a person than hair? Maybe the hat helped, but I've been thinking of you as a separate entity entirely. I've liked you since the beginning, because unlike the other humans, you actually _listen_.

Oh, don't look at me with those watery eyes. You look just like the second boy, don't you? Eyes and everything.

Oh. Did that make it worse?

Hey. I'm a tree. What do I know, right?

I'm sorry.

No, don't worry. If you need some time alone, I'll understand.

It's not like I'm going anywhere.

.x.x.

I can see it now. You have come from their seed, haven't you? I've never understood the vagaries of human reproduction, but I do know that there is indeed some continuity. You don't just emerge out of the dirt, after all. Heh. All right, so I'm not a successful comedian. There's no need to look so baleful.

It's funny. You ask me about children, but that is an alien concept to me. I've heard of the word, but I don't actually have any children of my own. All I have are seeds, and I never know what happens to them once they've left me.

Stop laughing. What, pray tell, is so funny about seeds?

I do not understand you. I do not understand you one bit.

Oh, I can't be mad. Your face looks much better when you smile.

You don't look like the others when you smile.

I like that.

.x.x.

Look at the lake, out there. Beautiful, isn't it?

I know you don't really get the chance to look at it. You're always cooped up in your dwelling, doing whatever it is you humans do. Meanwhile, I literally cannot do anything but look at the lake. And the sky. And the grounds around me.

You've crossed it once, haven't you? On a boat, years ago. You trusted your little body to a manmade contraption, hoping that it would not sink and leave you to become one with the lake.

It wouldn't have been a bad thing, though, in my opinion. I would have liked the option to become one with the lake.

Oh well. Perhaps, like many other young humans before you, you will get the chance to cross that lake again, in the opposite direction.

Hey. Where are you going all of a sudden?

Farewell, I guess.

.x.x.

Do not apologise to me. I'm a tree. What does it matter how I feel?

And now you're hugging me. That is. Exceedingly weird. I am not sure this has ever happened to me before.

All right, so you want to tell me your feelings and have me understand.

Well? I'm waiting.

I'll always wait for you. You're one of the only kind ones.

.x.x.

Of course you have to leave this place one day. Doesn't everyone? The other two messy haired boys left before you, and now you will leave.

I'm not even sad about it.

Well, maybe a little. But my feelings don't—

No, they really _don't_ matter. Okay? I am resilient. I am strong. I am tree.

So why are you sad?

.x.x.

I know you're scared. You're not the only young human that's ever been scared of the distant future, and you won't be the last.

I understand that this place has been comforting to you. You've enjoyed your time here, like most others. But there will be other wonderful places out there, across the lake, places I cannot even begin to imagine, places that only humans like you can reach. Aren't you willing to go out there and _find_ them?

What do you mean, _bitter_? Of course I'm bloody bitter! No matter how much I want to see beyond this place, I will never get to see it.

No, _no_. Put that stick away. If you separate me from this earth, I will literally die. Don't you think that if I could have safely explored the world, I would have done it by now? I still don't know how old I am, but I am much other than you, that's for sure.

Anyway, we were not talking about me. We were talking about you. You and your fear of going across the lake again.

You say it feels like having something heavy inside of you. I cannot relate to that, but I will sympathise. It sounds quite unpleasant.

Tell me—are you able to articulate what exactly it is you fear?

The unknown? Why, the solution is simple, then. _Go out there and know it_. Once you know it, it will stop being the unknown, and then there will be nothing to fear!

What? Why are you laughing? Stop that. You are quite rude, you know. At least let me in on the joke.

.x.x.

Hey. You are a wonderful boy, the only human I've met with the full capacity of feeling.

I know you are sad to leave, and I know you're still a little scared, despite my expert pep talk.

But you know what? You're no longer hiding, and you no longer look tired. I'd say that's an improvement.

Hey. Since you said that this is the last time, can you please do me a favour?

Take this. It is a seedling.

Wherever it is that you go to, over there across the lake, go find a nice place and plant it.

After talking to you, I've thought about it. My life is steady and stable, and I quite like where I've dug my roots. I get to meet new people every so often, and the birds are quite appreciative of my presence.

There's no use in me trying to travel at this presumably old age, no use in being bitter.

But take this part of me so you'll stop being sad. No need to miss me. If you plant this, I'll always be there. Maybe I'll even be good luck towards your future. You never know, right?

Farewell.


End file.
